Page 27 of Beautifully Savage Butterfly

“Why were you so eager to leave?” he demands. His breath bathes my face, heavy with the smell of Scotch. My lips ache for him to kiss me again the way he did last night, hard and hungry, like he fucking owns me.

It takes several seconds for my brain to catch up with the fact that he asked me a question.

“Because I wanted to stay.” It’s too simple of an explanation for the way everything crashed down around me last night after he untied me, but it’s the best I can do. It was like he made me feel so damn good, so fucking right that when it ended, nothing else felt real. It was too much, and I was so greedy for more that I knew if I didn’t leave, I never would.

His fingers twitch and he releases his grip on my tie. I flatten it out and ease back into my chair.

“The next time I put you in my bed, you’re going to keep your ass there until I decide I’m finished with you,” Orion growls, not even glancing at the bartender as he sets down our second round of drinks.

My dick jerks and my lips twitch. “The next time, huh?”

“I’m not fucking around with you, Brat.” The tense edge in his voice makes me flinch and nearly start panting.

I swallow hard and nod. “Yes, Boss.”

“Good boy,” he murmurs the words quietly, but they boom in my ears as if he shouted them through a megaphone. They knock me off balance and make me shift eagerly in my seat. I didn’t know how satisfying it would be to earn praise from him after all the harsh words I’ve greedily lapped up, always desperate for them to sting a little more. But Orion calling me his good boy is as soothing as the feeling of his lips brushing softly against my bruised wrists was last night.

I clear my throat and reach for the fresh drink, but I don’t bring it to my lips, I just wrap my hand around the glass and try to slow my breathing.

“So, why did we meet at this dump?” he asks, reminding me that there’s a reason I wanted to meet him tonight, and it’s not just because I crave him in the worst ways.

“I need your help,” I say, and his eyebrows go up.

“With what?”

Chapter 12

ELIO

I lean back in my chair and run my thumb absently along the rim of my glass. If I have any hope of getting Orion on board with this, I need to choose my words carefully. The problem is finesse isn’t exactly my strong suit.

I tell people what I want, and they do it…

Except for him. I tell Orion what I want, and he calls me a brat and makes me suffer in ways I can’t get enough of. Does that make me as spoiled as he says I am? I have no fucking clue.

There aren’t a lot of ways to massage this request into something he’s likely to find palatable though, so I might as well just dive in headfirst.

“The guy who owns this place.” I gesture broadly at the bar around us, keeping my voice low so the bartender is less likely to overhear. I’m not sure if all the kinky, gay flirting that just happened between us made him more or less likely to try to eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation. “He took out a loan to keep this place afloat.”

“And he hasn’t paid up?” Orion guesses.

“He’s paying. Every month, right on time. Some months he’s even paying more than the minimum,” I answer, and he frowns, glancing around at the completely empty chairs and barstools, the bartender behind the counter scrolling through his phone with a bored expression, the layer of dust on half the bottles lining the shelves.

“How?”

“Exactly. That’s what I want to find out.”

“Why do you care?” he asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, then bringing the fresh glass of Scotch to his lips to take a slow sip. “You’re getting your money. Does it really matter where it comes from?”

“That depends.” I shrug. “If he’s earning it beating the shit out of other criminals at underground fights, we don’t mind that so much.” I smirk, and Orion rumbles a laugh. “But if he’s operating an illegal business under our noses without following our rules or giving us our cut of it? Yeah, we give a shit about that.”

He grunts in understanding. “And what does any of this have to do with me? Is this just another lesson in the seedy ecosystem of Wildcliff, or what?”

“I told you; I need your help.” I mirror his posture—elbows on the table, our faces only a few inches apart. “I have to poke around, ask some questions, get to the bottom of what kind of shit Casimir is up to so I can either shake him down or shut it down.”

Orion is quiet for a minute, waiting for me to say more. When I don’t, he lets out a frustrated huff.

“Are you being cryptic just to piss me off? Where exactly do you think I come in here?” he asks again.

---